Chapter 16
It’s hard not to stare at the whiteboard behind JJ, the one that reads: Reality TV star murders everyone on set.
I’m almost certain it must be a pitch for a novel, probably ‘written’ by one of her reality TV celeb clients (although almost certainly secretly written by an author who could never get the same kind of marketing under their own name), but with JJ and her general clientele (obviously I’m her one boring author) you never know, it could be a new headline she’s trying to get ahead of.
Surely even JJ would struggle to spin something like a murdering spree, but if my money was on anyone being able to do it, it’s her.
A close second, obviously, is her making it seem like Jake and I are not only engaged, but madly in love.
Now there’s a story that’s going to take some selling.
With our ‘proposal’ we got lucky – everyone has a phone in their hands all the time, you can’t get away with anything these days, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the internet, it’s that the facts rarely matter.
People watch a video and see exactly what they want to see, and with Jake and me, they chose to see a love story.
Whether or not that’s good business for both of us is one thing, but if people saw the reality, that it was a series of events that came from me being desperate, low-key pathetic and incredibly clumsy, well, I’d never be able to show my face again.
Better I try to get to grips with the positive spin than show the world how unemployable I am, right?
Jake is sitting beside me, his body relaxed but his brow furrowed as he stares at the whiteboard too. I don’t suppose he has the context I do, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He’s not running out anyway.
‘Do you watch much reality TV?’ I ask him, making conversation.
‘No, ma’am,’ he replies. ‘And if that’s what I’m missing, I don’t reckon it’s for me. I’ve seen crime shows start like that…’
I laugh.
‘That’s privileged material,’ JJ says, ticking us off, spinning the whiteboard around, only to reveal that someone has drawn a huge penis on the other side.
My eyebrows shoot up. Jake stifles a laugh.
‘Come on now, let’s concentrate,’ she says, oblivious to what’s behind her.
‘Here’s what we’re working with. Whit, you are a romance author whose life has turned into a romcom.
Publishers don’t simply want good fiction any more, they want proof of concept, a real story to sell from a marketable person – which, no offence, you are not. ’
‘None taken,’ I announce, although my voice betrays me.
‘Jake,’ she says, turning her attention to him. ‘You want to buy part of Rosewood – the lodge and the equestrian business, correct?’
He nods.
‘But, Arty Morgan, the owner, wants to sell to a family man, not a smoking-hot bachelor,’ she continues. ‘So with each other on your side, your stock goes up, you’re exactly what you need to be.’
I sigh.
‘Always so glad when a man can solve all my problems – no offence,’ I add – now it’s my turn to say it.
‘That’s alright, I’d be frustrated too,’ he assures me.
‘So…’ JJ turns around, pen in hand, stopping in her tracks when she sees the penis on the board. She cocks her head – no pun intended – for a second, then springs to action. ‘I’ll rub this off – no giggling at the back, please.’
I purse my lips, trying to give off an air of class and maturity in front of my accidental fiancé.
JJ writes The Love Story in big letters on the board – you can still see the tip of the penis, just at the end of the word ‘story’.
‘We want people to buy into your love story, establishing your individual narratives to your individual happy ever afters,’ she explains.
‘Whit, you’re the romance writer living in your own cowboy romance trope.
Jake, you’re the sexy rancher looking for a homestead to hang your hat and raise your family.
Whit, you get your book deal. Jake, you get your farm, or whatever it is. ’
‘Sounds perfect,’ I say, almost sceptically.
‘Ah, but it’s not perfect,’ JJ corrects me. ‘People don’t like perfect, they like real. You fall, he saves you. He needs you to go to his meetings, you’re there supporting him. True, honest love. Just, you know, faked.’
‘Just like that,’ I reply.
‘Yep, just like that,’ she says firmly. ‘You’ve had the grand gesture, the proposal, that’s got people interested. Now you need to keep it low-key, but sell your love story. Look loved-up. Touch. Familiarity. Adoration.’
‘You want us to touch each other?’ Jake clarifies.
‘Yes, but not in a weird way,’ she replies. ‘That said – did you see Ozzy, from the latest Singledom, getting off with Lady Lavendar outside Purple Ice? That was all me.’
Jake rubs his chin for a moment.
‘Ma’am, I don’t think I understood a word you just said,’ he points out.
‘You call me ma’am, you don’t even have to remember my name,’ she replies with a wink.
‘Anyway, relax, I’m talking about the two of you learning to stand like a couple, sit like a couple.
Look at each other like you’re obsessed.
Like you know what each other’s favourite movie is and how you take your tea. ’
Jake looks me up and down playfully.
‘You like your tea with milk,’ he says, sounding like he’s taking a stab in the dark.
‘I do!’ I say almost excitedly. ‘You can tell that?’
‘No, I had breakfast with you,’ he reminds me with a grin.
I laugh.
‘That right, right there,’ JJ says, her eyes wide, her smile beaming. ‘This is what people need to see. This cute nonsense – but with more touching.’
‘I guess we should have some boundaries for touching,’ I suggest.
JJ’s smile drops off, probably never to be see again.
‘What? No, boundaries are all wrong, boundaries are not hot,’ she insists. ‘You’re pretending to be in love, not tying each other up, you don’t need a safe word.’
Eye-opening statement from my friend who, now that I think about it, probably wasn’t joking about having handcuffs in her bedroom.
‘Boundaries sound good,’ Jake adds.
‘At least you’re acting like you’re on the same page,’ JJ chimes in. ‘Okay, fine, if we’re taking this seriously then, how about: public affection only, all above the belt. Next…’
‘Can we go back to “no above the belt”?’ I reply.
‘You want to get below the belt in the mix, that’s fine by me, I approve – it was you two who said you wanted boundaries,’ she replies.
I snort with laughter.
‘No, JJ, obviously I have more above the belt than Jake does, so to speak,’ I point out.
I gesture my hands over my boobs in a vague way.
‘I promise to only ever treat you like a lady,’ he tells me.
And I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed.
‘Okay, we need to practise, to get the first weird one out of the way,’ JJ says.
‘Practise what?’ I ask.
JJ steps between us and pushes us closer together. I mean physically. She pulls us to our feet, grabs me by the arm and nudges Jake’s shoulder until we’re standing far too close for comfort.
‘Okay,’ JJ says. ‘You’re at an event. Someone has just congratulated you on your engagement. Where do your hands go?’
‘Erm… I don’t know… on my chest?’ I ask.
‘I thought we were avoiding those?’ she jokes – she knows I meant on my heart. ‘Anyway, incorrect. Jake?’
‘Uh. On her… arm?’ he asks.
JJ nods.
‘Okay. Good start. Do that,’ she commands.
He hesitates, glancing at me.
‘Is that okay?’ he asks.
‘Fine,’ I say, trying not to swallow louder than an explosion.
He places his hand lightly on my arm. It should feel weird. It does feel weird, in a way but, I don’t know, it also feels… oddly natural. Warm, reassuring, nice.
‘Whit, you’re too stiff. Loosen up,’ JJ commands. Because historically relaxing is as simple as someone just telling you to do it.
Jake shifts, his thumb brushing my arm as he finds a comfortable spot again.
My stomach flips traitorously.
‘There it is,’ JJ says. ‘You look like you want each other – good work.’
I didn’t realise I was doing anything…
‘Now, eye contact,’ she commands.
Jake looks at me. I look at him. It’s not awkward at all, which is somehow even more confusing than if it was.
JJ makes a small, satisfied noise.
‘Ahh. Perfect.’
I tear my gaze away. I don’t know why, but something about it feels… something.
‘This is crazy,’ I say with a laugh, styling it out.
‘And effective,’ JJ replies. ‘Now, social media. We don’t need much. One or two soft posts. Casual. I can help you take some photos, make it look like you’ve been together a long time.’
‘What’s a soft post?’ Jake asks.
‘Nothing too obvious,’ JJ replies. ‘Nothing that looks like a thinly veiled press release. Just slow and steady evidence of your love. Drinking coffee. Walking. Laughing. Maybe baking.’
Jake blinks.
‘Baking?’
‘It’s wholesome,’ JJ says. ‘And men who can bake are so hot.’
I rub my temples.
‘I cannot believe this is my life,’ I blurt.
‘And yet,’ JJ says cheerfully, ‘here we are.’
Jake clears his throat.
‘I should mention… I’ve got another meeting with Arty tomorrow.’
JJ’s head snaps up.
‘That’s perfect.’
‘It is?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Whit can go with you – ever the dutiful fiancée. So when Arty asks who she is, you say…?’
‘This is my future wife,’ Jake says slowly.
The words land harder than I expect.
‘See? You’re naturals,’ JJ assures us.
We fly through the rest of the meeting, JJ telling us her ideas – and thankfully her intimacy lessons are over, because I’ve seen how that girl gets intimate, and I’m not doing that here.
By the time we leave JJ’s office, I feel like I’ve crawled out of a tornado.
We step out onto the pavement, London buzzing around us obliviously. You can always count on the city to make your big problems feel small and insignificant.
Jake exhales.
‘She’s intense,’ he says. ‘Fun though.’
‘Yeah, I have a few other choice words,’ I joke. ‘She does know what she’s doing though.’
We walk in silence for a few steps.
‘Erm, Jake,’ I say suddenly. ‘Do you want to come to my flat with me?’
He looks surprised.
‘Do I…?’
Time to make that not seem weird.
‘So you can… you know. See it,’ I reply. ‘You would have seen it, if this were all real. In case it comes up. For realism.’
‘Yeah. Okay,’ he replies.
I’m being such a dork all of a sudden – well, not all of a sudden, I did fall into a fountain – but I’m not usually so tongue-tied around random men.
With Jake it should be easy because with Jake everything is pretend. We’re faking it – surely that’s easier, if I can be whatever I want to be?
Then why am I so nervous?